Welcome to Adventures at the Creepermat!

I started this blog because I constantly find myself being amused, disgusted, or simply baffled by the things that occur while I am situated at the laundromat.

I'm sure you're wondering why the heck I call it the Creepermat. A few of my friends and I refer to weird people as Creepers. Laundromats seem to be a haven for the weird, the destitute, and the generally entertaining to watch.

I've been doing laundry in public laundromats since I moved out on my own in 2004. I used to loathe it and put it off for as long as I could, often going nearly a month without doing laundry. The past year, though, I've realized what a gold mine of observations I've come up with during just about every laundromat experience, and I've finally motivated myself to kick the procrastination and start a damn blog about it already.

I live in the Ohio Valley; the nearest small towns, and the ones where I usually end up with my 6 baskets of pee-stained kid sheets, grease-smelling Garfield's uniforms, and 79 pairs of underwear, are St Clairsville OH and Wheeling WV. The nearest large city is Pittsburgh, which is over an hour away. I'm sure that information alone is enough to allude to the types of people I encounter on these adventures. I am at the top of Appalachia, before you venture into Wrong Turn territory. Rednecks and the general span of low to lower middle class folks are my usual company.

Enjoy, and be sure to leave comments and feedback for me!

-Shannon

Mar 10, 2010

Creepers are creepy.

The Creepermat truly lived up to my affectionate nickname whatever day I did laundry. I don't even remember, but it was a few days ago. There were 6 cars in the lot. I used the left side of the 'mat because the right side was overpopulated with a herd of creepers. Five very weird looking guys stationed at various areas on the right side all stared at me as I walked in. Two of them continued to stare at me the entire time I was in the laundromat; the same two had their faces smashed up to the door as I was walking in. There wasn't anything interesting going on outside, so I really have no clue what they were doing.

One in particular really weirded me out; he gawked openly, completely unashamed. I felt it, and I could usually see him in my peripheral vision. He was wearing a Harley Davidson hat, gray sweater, and dirty jeans with mud-crusted work boots; most of the others were in around the same attire. He was 40ish, weathered, with leathery skin from years of construction work. Blond hair and mustache.

He watched me put all of my laundry in the washers. I dropped a quarter in one of the washers. He said "You tryin' to launder money?" and snickered like he was incredibly clever. I suppressed a rude comment, gave a short smile and awkward laugh, and walked away.

There was one older lady; she was occupying the left side with me, but she didn't look very friendly so I didn't try to make conversation. I brought in food from Burger King, but I don't like people watching me eat. Every single creeper in the 'mat had their eyes locked on me, so I quickly shoveled my burger and didn't bother with the fries. They were gawking at me like "Thou shalt not consume food whilst in a public laundry" were one of the 10 commandments.

I spent most of this visit staring down at my book, trying not to be severely creeped out by the five men watching me like I were on stage at a strip club. I made sure to hold my book so that the cover could be seen. I was reading a book about serial killers. I wish it had creeped them out, but creepers aren't called creepers because THEY get weirded out, but because they weird YOU out, so this obviously failed. If anything, it probably got their tongues wagging even more. Creepy.